


Right Place. Wrong Time.

by ianlipgallagher (mdobbs1614)



Series: Prompts [40]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Bank Robbery, Hostage Situations, M/M, Meet-Cute, Resourceful Mickey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 02:57:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8732164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdobbs1614/pseuds/ianlipgallagher
Summary: Prompt: Ian and Mickey meet at a hostage situation at a bank and Mickey being the sb he is, completely judges the theives on their criminal skills "dude, the dumbass wore fingerless gloves. Almost tempted to get his gun and shoot myself bc of his stupidity." Ian just laughs the whole time (more humourous than serious even though its a hostage fic)





	

 

“EVERYBODY, DOWN ON THE GROUND.” A voice booms, breaking through the quiet aura of the bank’s atmosphere. Patrons scream as the man shoots three or four bullets toward the ceiling.

 

“For fuck’s sake."

 

“Why me?"

 

The two men look at each other, both seemingly unfazed by the chaos and terror surrounding them. They share a knowing look and a sigh, both sliding down the wall into a sitting position. 

 

They watch as a group of three men in ski masks yell at employees and patrons. Mickey looks down to check his watch. 

 

“Goddammit. I’m missing Family Feud.” He whines. 

 

Ian smirks at the man to his right. He’s shorter than Ian by a good five inches, but he makes up for it in bulk. He’s wearing a sleeveless, dark blue tank top that shows off his muscles and brings out his eyes. 

 

The man catches him staring so Ian’s eyes jerk away, focusing on the other customers who are cowering in fear, despite the fact that this guys are amateurs. 

 

Ian huffs out a laugh, drawing his neighbor’s attention who turns to him with a amused look.

 

“That guy is wearing fucking fingerless gloves. His prints are gonna be everywhere.” Ian shakes his head, at the robber's stupidity.

 

Mickey grins, enjoying this stranger's sense of humor even in this less than ideal situation. The guy next to him is taller than Mickey, maybe six feet. He's got bright hair and dreamy eyes. Mickey gives his body an appreciative scan before responding. 

 

“Not to mention that they didn’t take out the cameras. Cops are gonna know his height, weight, eye color, what he had for fucking lunch. You know how high def cameras are these days? Please.” Mickey scoffs. 

 

Ian nods. "Who are these guys?"

 

“Oh man, look at this one.” Mickey smirks, gesturing to the robber closest to him and Ian. “He’s got a pellet gun. Forgot to paint the tip black, fucking idiot."

 

Ian lets out a laugh just on the side of too loud and it catches the attention of the leader. He stalks over, gun in hand.

 

“Something fucking funny to you?” He barks, pointing the real pistol right between Ian’s eyes.

 

“Woah! Woah!” Mickey calls, throwing his hand in front of the gun. “We were just talking about how your friend over there has a fuckin’ BB gun. Might wanna get him something real ‘fore the cops show up. If we noticed, they will too.” 

 

At that exact moment, sirens are heard in the distance, drawing the man’s attention away from Ian and Mickey and back over toward the doors. 

 

Ian’s head falls back against the wall in relief once the gun is lowered from in front of his face. 

 

“Thanks, man.” He says, looking over at Mickey. “You didn’t have to do that.” 

 

Mickey just nods half-heartedly, his eyes focused on the men with guns in the center of the room. Ian studies him curiously. 

 

“What? What is it?” Ian whispers. 

 

“Hoping they try and run. If this turns into a real hostage situation, we’re gonna be here for hours.” Mickey explains.

 

Ian’s eyes go wide. “Shit, don’t at least some hostages usually die.” 

 

Mickey shakes his head confidently.

 

“Nah, if they were killers, that guy would’ve shot you as soon as you laughed. Natural born killers have an easily bruised ego. These guys are just criminals.” 

 

Ian stares at Mickey for a moment. 

 

“How can you be so sure?” He asks.

 

Mickey shrugs, turning to look at Ian face to face. “I’ve only ever known criminals. I’m Southside, born and bred.” 

 

“No way. Me too!” Ian grins. “I’m Ian. Ian Gallagher."

 

Mickey rolls his eyes at the over-sharing stranger, but offers his name nonetheless “Mickey."

 

Ian and Mickey turn back toward the gun-wielding robbers in the middle of the room, watching as two rush toward the back door with sacks filled with cash while one stays dead in the center, facing the doors, holding two assault rifles. 

 

“Oh, no. No!” Mickey whispers harshly.  

 

“What? What?” Ian shakes Mickey’s shoulder. Mickey points to the guy with a hard expression coating his face. 

 

“He’s a fucking suicide guy. It’s gonna be a shoot out.” Mickey’s eyes scan the room frantically, looking for an exit strategy. He spots a way out and starts scooting his body toward the back, motioning for Ian to follow. 

 

Once their out of the guy’s direct eye line, Mickey holds his hand out, pointing at Ian’s coat. Ian gives it over with a questioning look. 

 

“Ian Gallagher. I’m gonna get us out of here, but you gotta be quick.” Mickey explains. "You with me?"

 

Ian nods fervently, looking to Mickey for further instructions. 

 

“I’m gonna break this window, but it’ll be loud so as soon as it breaks, we gotta go.” Mickey says with certainty. “If it cuts you, let it. That’s better than three bullets to the chest, yeah?” 

 

“Got it.” Ian nods again. 

 

“Good. Here we go.” Mickey wraps the coat around his arm from fist to elbow. He puts his other hand on the rail below the window to brace himself and counts to three. “Ready?” He confirms. “One. Two. Three.” 

 

The glass shatters and Ian shuffles through immediately, letting it tear his pants. He reaches behind him and helps Mickey through, wincing as Mickey's right arm gets sliced. 

 

Mickey grasps his hand tightly, leading him behind buildings and through alleyways, not stopping until they’re safe. Mickey pauses four blocks later, releasing Ian’s hand and leaning against the brick wall. 

 

Suddenly, the rapid sound of gun fire fills the air. 

 

“Fuck.” Ian pants, turning to Mickey with wide eyes.

 

Mickey shakes his head. “Idiots.” 

 

Ian tears off part of his pants and uses it to soak up the blood that's running down Mickey's bicep. Ian looks at Mickey's eyes and realizes how close they are. 

 

In a moment of courage and adrenaline, Ian surges forward pressing his lips to Mickey’s. Mickey’s arms wrap around Ian’s waist immediately, melting into the kiss. 

 

Ian pulls back when the need for oxygen finally outweighs his desire for the boy in front of him. He taps his forehead against Mickey’s, sharing his air. 

 

“Thank you.” Ian breathes, biting his lip and grinning. Mickey shrugs with a smile. 

 

“Anytime."

**Author's Note:**

> In case you didn't know, pellet and BB guns usually have neon orange tips so they won't be mistaked for real guns. 
> 
> Thoughts and feelings?
> 
> Prompt me @ianmickgallagher on tumblr


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